


wish granted

by creepyknees



Category: Adventure Time
Genre: Other, you eat pickles. you smile. it's great
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-03
Updated: 2016-02-03
Packaged: 2018-05-17 03:54:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5853076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/creepyknees/pseuds/creepyknees
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>a gift for pluto mushroomstairs (and also me). i havent written fic in years but no prismo/reader existed as far as i could see and i had to fix this. i love you enjoy</p>
            </blockquote>





	wish granted

“I’m not good at making a lot of food, but I can zap pretty much anything here for you, wish-style. If you want.”

You find yourself sitting in a small, yellow room, a bit dazed but otherwise unharmed. A pleasant voice has been speaking to you for a solid minute now and only half of it seems to have registered. There's a dull ache in your head, somehow unlike any headache you've had. It's hazy, but the world is starting to catch up to you.

You squint at the wall ahead to see a simple, pink, humanoid form plastered to the wall. It looks like a modern painting, only it moves, shifting through the small space like a hologram. It's vaguely hypnotic to your jumbled brain, and it's large. Larger than you would’ve expected from hearing its voice. It sounds no bigger than you.

The form seems to notice your confusion and shrinks slightly, embarrassed. “A little jet-lagged, there?” they say, laughing it off. “That tends to happen when you switch realms all of a sudden. You would not be- _lieve_ the timezone complications.”

You’re quiet, so they continue, patiently repeating their explanation. “I dunno how you got here, exactly, but since you are, you get a wish. I’m a wish master! I’ve got a diploma on my wall and everything.”

They laugh a little.

“That was a joke. Because I’m the only thing on my wall.”

You smile, just a bit. You’re definitely more at ease than most people would be in a situation like this. You know you weren't doing much before you got here, though how you got here is still a disconcerting issue. But whatever the case, you get a free wish out of it, so things are looking pretty great, all things considered.

And this wish master seems nice. Their calm and hospitable demeanor helps you process your surroundings, and, despite the shock, you don't feel threatened in the least. Their voice is curt and slightly monotone, grounding you. They just seem like an all-around chill being.

Regaining you bearings, you wobble to your feet and realize you’re standing right on top of what is probably their torso. Panicking, you quickly sidestep onto the nearest blank surface, hands raised in alarm.

“Oh man, I’m so sorry! I wasn’t looking where I was-”

“No, no, it’s cool!” the wish master hurriedly informs you. They shift to the side a bit to give you more space. “It’s fine. I barely feel it.”

You’re blushing anyway. At least you find it in you to talk. “Isn’t it kind of a dick move though? I was, uh…walking all over you.”

“Ha ha! Nice one. You made a pun. Sort of. I guess that means you’re doing better.” Their blue eyes shift from the ceiling to settle on you. “I’ll be honest, though. It is kiiiiind of a dick move. But you’re new to this, so I’ll let it slide.”

“T-Thanks,” you say. You briefly wonder if you should waste your wish on erasing that social blunder from history. “So…do you have a name?”

“Of course I do! I’m Prismo, the one and only. Well, maybe. But that’s not important. We’re here to talk about your wish!”

Oh, yeah. The wish. That's been at the back of your mind since they mentioned it. There’s an awful lot you could wish for. Helpful things, selfish things, personal things…you don’t know where to begin, or how it would work, exactly, because even someone as small as you knows things can’t be that simple. Every action has a reaction. Every wish has a consequence.

That's way too much for your addled mind to handle, so you sit back down on the cold floor with a pensive hum. “I wonder if wishing is as difficult a job as wish granting."

“That’s actually…a good question. Some people wish really fast, so I guess it depends on the wisher. But there is definitely an /art/ to wishing the right way. I just do whatever.”

“Like, what whatever?”

The words have hardly left your mouth before a sizable jar of pickles materializes inches from your feet. It happens so quickly that you wonder if Prismo was itching to demonstrate.

“Boop! Whatever. You want a jar of pickles, I got a jar of pickles.”

You’re skeptical. You glide a thumb over the glass of the jar, and it's solid. “And that’s…it? Right out of thin air?”

“Uhh…” Prismo turns a few shades pinker for a moment, sliding to the right. “Actualyyy, those pickles are the least ‘whatever’ thing I do. Period. Those are homemade. Like a hobby! Almost everything else I create comes from adjusting the multiverse, which is no biggie.”

You beg to differ. The words fall out of Prismo's mouth so fast they nearly stumble on each other, as if the wish master were running out of time, or something.

They eagerly go on to tell you that working with the multiverse isn’t so different from video editing (just on a much, MUCH larger scale), and explain to you the mechanics of wish-making. They share the worst doozies they've witnessed in the past couple centuries, complaining about all the cleanup they required. This somehow leads to you sharing the trials of your own life; your job that doesn't appreciate you, that exam next week, how your mind constantly seems to be aspiring against your dreams. Prismo gently reminds you of your wish as you vent, but doesn't press the issue. They mostly listen, comment, and provide little supportive quips throughout. It's puts you at ease.

Before you realize it, Prismo has materialized a fuzzy blanket, a hot drink where the only ingredient you can identify is honey, and the softest couch you’ve ever sat on. All for you, wish-free. Is that breaking the rules? You don’t really question it at this point.

Even though it was the main topic of your conversation, you haven’t thought about your wish much, just enjoying the company of the wish granter. You’ve been pretty lonely lately, and you’d put all your money on Prismo being the same.

There’s a quiet dip in your conversation, and you’re observing the walls of this tiny room. They aren’t a mustard yellow, or a sunlight yellow. Just…plain yellow. If it weren’t for Prismo’s presence, you’d be hunched in a corner, trying not to think claustrophobic thoughts. You wonder what they do all day. Maybe it’s hard to get bored when you have the multiverse at your fingertips, or maybe it all just gets old after so many centuries. Maybe you get tired of watching and just want to participate.

This tiny space, all these rules they keep mentioning…this place is practically a prison, you think. You think Prismo deserves better than this, for all they do.

You start to get an idea.

“You know, teeechnically I am majorly slacking off right now,” Prismo shares. Everything from their shoulders up are projected onto the couch beside you, shrunken a bit to fit comfortably. “I’m supposed to just deal with clients and move on, but, like, dude…I’ve been doing this long enough, I should be able to take a vacay whenever I want. So I’m calling it now.”

“Are you sure that’s okay?” Prismo gravely mentioned their boss at one point, and you have to wonder what god would be powerful enough to have authority over this one.

“Ehh…at least 64% sure. That’s good enough for me, at this point.”

You grip your now-empty mug and frown, trying to find the right words. “Hey, is there…um…”

They’re looking at you. Their face can’t say much, simply-formed and shadowlike as it is, but by now, you can see it. The question, the tiredness, the oldness. The gladness, the ease of boredom, the hint of fear. It’s all there.

“Is there…any way to wish you free?”

They’re so taken aback, their body cycles through an array of neon colors in a split second, their face flushed. Prismo slides off the couch and returns to their place on the wall, their entire form fuzzy at the edges.

“I–why would you–ha ha! Ha ha ha!! Good one!” Their laughter is cracked, the volume of their voice growing and shrinking. “T-This happens every few hundred years, you know. Someone pulls a fast one on me before they say their real wish. But…I didn’t think…”

“I’m being honest!” You passionately stand up on the couch to try and reach for Prismo’s own height. Now taller, you look them right in the eye. “Prismo, you’re one of the nicest people I’ve met, wish master or not. You deserve better.”

“Why would you waste your wish on something like that?” They’re almost angry now, or maybe just confused. “You could wish for anything in the world! Do you know how big that is? After all I’ve told you about wish biz?”

You know. “Wishing is hard. I’ll probably never jump through enough hoops to make a good wish, and I don’t even know what it would be. This would be simpler.”

“Are you joking? I really can’t tell when you’re joking. It wouldn’t be simple at all! Do you know what my boss would say about this? Because I don’t, and I don’t want to. I-”

“I wouldn’t regret it.”

“But you don’t _know_ that! You don’t know that’d I’d be any good outside this box, or if that's even possible. _I_ don’t know that, and I know just about everything!” Their form is wavering, trembling along with the stream of their voice.

You step down off the couch and onto blank yellow space, walking over to the wall. You place a hand on Prismo’s arm till their body stabilizes, their color eventually returning to its original calming pink. They’re quiet now.

“You just…you can’t be for real. Things don’t work that way. Not for me. They never have!”

You blush preemptively at how corny this is going to sound. “If I can wish for anything, I can wish for you, can’t I? You can’t get in trouble for doing your job.”

Your corn is lost on them. “Well, that _would_ be true, if the consequences weren’t so high. You know about the butterfly effect, right? This would be, like, the albatross effect. The _pterodactyl_ effect. Something catastrophic has. To happen.”

“Even if we took our time and figured out all the holes?” You smooth out the wall with your hand, hoping its a kind gesture. The pink below your fingertips seems to grow grayer. “There’s gotta be something.”

“No one…no one cares to go through all that for me. It’s impossible, okay? Even if we did, I don’t know if I could actually…grant it. For multiple reasons.”

“Could we try? If we’re really careful?”

Prismo mulls this over, a thousand years worth of apprehension on their face. A bit of color returns to their form as the silence grows.

“Maybe…maybe we could work something out. I dunno. Heck, it’s worth a shot. I’m up for anything by now, really. Fate of the universe be damned.”

You smile. “If it doesn’t work, I wouldn’t…y'know…mind sticking around..maybe not forever, but-”

“Wow.” Prismo turns an all out hot pink. “You’d do that? For me?”

You nod enthusiastically. “I don’t have a lot of friends back in my realm, and…you’re really good company, Prismo.”

“Ha ha, aww…same to ya, buddy.” The flushed wish master shrinks against the other side of the wall for a moment before returning to position, eyes bright.

“All right. Let’s check out those consequences.”


End file.
